


Bound

by atetheredmind (s_e_irvine)



Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-31
Updated: 2012-08-31
Packaged: 2017-11-13 06:58:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/500744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/s_e_irvine/pseuds/atetheredmind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Katniss finds a solution for Peeta when his attacks begin to interfere with their sleeping.</p><p>Written for Day 7 of Everlark Week Challenge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bound

"No!"

Torn from her slumber, Katniss shot up in her bed, fighting against the sheets. "Prim!" she gasped, struggling with consciousness. It took her a moment to realize it wasn't a nightmare that had woken her. She glanced at the empty space next to her, suddenly remembering her sleeping partner. Where was Peeta?

She heard a thump and a strangled cry from the floor, and she leaned over the edge of the bed. Fear squeezed at her heart; Peeta was curled up on his knees, his face pressed against the hardwood. He slammed his fist against the floor, making her jump, and he groaned quietly, "No."

Katniss slipped out of bed and carefully kneeled beside him. "Peeta?" she asked tentatively, and he drew into himself further, shaking his head.  
"Katniss, I can't—you have to stay back," he gasped, tugging on his hair. He was having an attack.

She didn't know how to help him. So she just watched stupidly as he trembled and grunted and writhed, fighting his way through a flashback. Eventually, his movements stilled, his body slumping to the floor, his labored breaths slowing.

He pulled himself to his feet, and she stared at him. "Peeta," she started, but he cut her off.

"I can't sleep here with you anymore," he said hoarsely. Her heart leapt to her throat. "I woke up, and I wanted to kill you. I nearly—I'm sorry, but I just can't. I don't trust myself." She watched him wordlessly as he stumbled out of her room.

Dawn was just peeking through her window when he left. The sun was low in the sky by the time she crawled back into bed and buried herself under the covers.

Peeta didn't come back that night. She didn't sleep.

 

He didn't come back the next night either. Katniss thrashed in her bed, the many-faced terrors of her dreams greeting her each time she managed to slip into the oblivion. Finally, she gave up and stared blankly at the wall. His side of the bed was cold.

 

The third night, she couldn't take it anymore. Under the cover of night, she stole over to Peeta's house where she found him awake in his bed. He looked at her without seeing, but when she climbed into his bed, he pushed on her shoulders gently. "Katniss, no," he murmured, trying to ward her off, but she persisted. "I told you I can't."

She swatted his hands away when he pushed weakly at her chest, burying her head against his stomach. She clung to him desperately. "Please, Peeta. I can't sleep without you, please."

She knew he hadn't been sleeping either.

He protested, but his words were quiet, slurred. "What if I hurt you?"

She was already losing consciousness. "You won't," she whispered. She was asleep before he could respond.

 

She was awoken again when Peeta shoved her off him roughly. She pressed against the wall, and Peeta curled into a ball, groaning loudly. He gasped, pained, and his whole body shook. He jerked away when her fingertips skimmed his back. "I told you. I told you, Katniss," he moaned in pain. "I can't do this."

Gritting her teeth, she rolled him onto his back. He didn't resist. When she climbed on top of him, he made to push her off, but she forced his arms down, pinning them to the bed with her knees. He struggled, his head thrashing from side to side. She stroked his forehead, his cheeks, his hair. "Not real, Peeta. Not real. You don't want to kill me," she soothed, and he froze, his body tense. He murmured inaudibly to himself.

Soon, his body deflated under hers. He was asleep. Katniss followed not long after him.

When they woke the next morning, his arms were numb, and her legs were cramped.

 

"You don't understand, Katniss. Whenever I have an attack, all I can think about is strangling you," he told her the next day. The pain was palpable in his voice. "I wake up with my hands reaching for your throat. It takes everything in me to stop myself."

She stared at him quietly, thinking.

"What if I tie your hands?" she asked quietly. His eyes pinned her to her spot as he mulled her words over.

Minutes passed. Finally, he murmured, "Maybe."

 

Katniss double knotted the tie around his wrists, tugging tightly. His hands were anchored securely to the bed frame, his arms extended above his head awkwardly. "That doesn't look comfortable," she said, unsure.

He shook his head. "It's fine. I'll be okay." His face was apprehensive, his voice strained. She brushed the hair off his forehead, and his eyes fluttered closed. She pressed against his side and rested her head on his chest. She could hear the thu-thumping of his heart. It eventually lulled her to sleep.

Peeta's groans woke her hours later. His hands strained against the tie, but it held tight. His face was racked with anguish, and she stroked his hair for minutes, hours, until he finally relaxed. Once he was asleep again, she pressed a kiss to his forehead.

 

Their nights continued in the same vein. Peeta's wrists were often chafed raw, and she would flutter kisses across his face, his chest, his lips, murmuring assertions of "not real, not real." His episodes grew shorter, but he still insisted she leave the restraints on.

 

He trembled underneath her, and she nuzzled her nose against his neck. "Peeta," she whispered, pressing her lips to his pulse point, trailing kisses along his jaw line, brushing the corner of his mouth. She purred his name over and over again. His breathing slowed, and she looked up at him through lidded eyes. His chest rose and fell under hers. His eyes were dark, his pupils fat.

"Katniss," he murmured, and she kissed him urgently, her teeth scraping against his lips.

His arms jerked against his restraints, and she moved to undo them, but he stopped her. "No. Leave it on." His voice was thick, and she stared at him. Finally, she nodded, capturing his mouth again. They kissed wetly, their breathing ragged, and she straddled his waist. Katniss pawed at his clothes, pulling her own off, and she pushed his shorts out of the way. When she buried him inside her, they both groaned in relief. He strained against the tie, his hips bucking under her wildly as she moved above him. He grunted when he came, and she collapsed, sweaty, against his chest.

"Katniss?" he asked weakly, gasping.

"Real, Peeta, it's real," she panted into his neck.

 

Peeta was adamant she keep him tied up, even though the gaps between his attacks grew longer. Some nights, she'd wake from nightmares and he would whisper her words of comfort. Other nights, she hugged him tight as he shook with rage and fear.

Every night, she climbed on top of him and writhed above him, riding him to completion, until they were both crying out and trembling from pleasure.  
Tonight, she fumbled with the tie, begging, "Please, Peeta. I need you to hold me." He only hesitated briefly before he relented, nodding eagerly, and she untied his hands. He gathered her in his arms and held her tightly as they drifted off to sleep.

After that point, Peeta only wore the restraints when Katniss asked him to.


End file.
